


Hot off the Press!

by ChocoChipBiscuit



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, Finger Sucking, Interviews, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-22 17:31:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8294116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoChipBiscuit/pseuds/ChocoChipBiscuit
Summary: Piper interviews her favorite singer, and Magnolia shows her favorite reporter a good time.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OnWingsofValor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnWingsofValor/gifts).



> Many thanks to my kind beta, and to CallMeWing for this lovely prompt! I adore Piper's in-game flirting with Magnolia, and this was a delight to write!

Piper downs the rest of her Nuka and grenadine in two long gulps, heart rattling beneath her coat. Magnolia’s last notes linger in the air, sweet and smoky, their presence as palpable as the haze of cigarettes and Jet fumes.

Magnolia should feel too big for this small bar, her voice bouncing off the walls and bottles and shivering through every crevice, shake this old subway station down to its foundations, but then again— like Magnolia herself, this bar has hidden spaces. If they ever wanted to expand, it would be as simple as knocking down the barricades and clearing the tunnels.

But like this it’s small, cozy. A perfect fit; like a jeweled ring on a lady’s finger.

Magnolia slides in next to Piper, and Whitechapel Charlie sets down her water with a gentle _thunk_. Barely rippling the surface of the drink, chunks of ice bobbing and condensation ringing the glass.

“Nice set— of songs. As usual,” Piper attempts, tongue gummy in her throat. She coughs into her palm, cheeks itching with embarrassment. The world washed in red— Magnolia’s red dress catching light, Piper’s red coat pulling shadows. A glare of neon and heat, overriding the cool blue of the tiled walls and gray floors. She squirms, the seat’s plasticky vinyl squeaking beneath her, her heart drumming loud and sticky between her ears.

Magnolia laughs without malice, hair swaying as she tilts her head. “Thanks, doll. We’ll make a regular of you yet.” She presses a finger to the rim of the glass, a long, smooth glide about the lip that Piper watches for two beats too long before wrestling her attention back to the woman in front of her.

“So. Uh,” she stammers, rifling through her mental notes and coming up with doodle-heart nonsense instead. “Think you’re still up for that interview?”

“Hardly hard-hitting journalism, but sure,” Magnolia says, lashes casting long shadows over the curve of her cheek. Some of her eyeshadow is smudged, pale and silver on the edge of the lid. Piper finds it oddly a reassuring, a reminder that Magnolia is only human. A beautiful, talented human. “Don’t see what’s so fascinating about little old me.”

Piper ungums her lips, ink-stained fingers flashing as she waves her hand. “Oh, come on! You’re the biggest draw in Goodneighbor, and— look, I might be a Diamond City girl, but I _love_ it here. More people need to get their head out of their asses and really learn about their neighbors, but people can’t love what they don’t know.”

“And you can’t scold people into their better natures, hm?” Magnolia smiles, teeth flashing an impossible white against the shadows of the bar. The smile’s warm, genuine maybe, but those silver-lidded eyes twinkle like they might be teasing.

But whether Magnolia’s mocking or sincere, Piper’s too far gone for anything but an honest response. She gnaws her lip furiously, nodding so hard she has to catch her cap with one hand. “Look, people _deserve_ to know things. But I can’t spread a message if people aren’t listening.”

“Do you always have a message when you write?”

“Anyone who says they don’t is lying, ma’am,” Piper says firmly. She pulls a pen from her glove and a battered notepad from her pocket, along with a box of mints. The battered box goes back in the pocket as Piper crosses her ankles. She uses her knee as a prop for her notepad, pen poised above the page. “So now you know my message. What do you want to tell me?”

“You really want to know?” Magnolia asks, warm and lazy as Sunday brunch. “It’s all in the songs. Everything I am.”

And Piper knows all the songs, line by line. She keeps the radio on when working the press, and always turns up the volume when Magnolia’s songs come on, but— “If I just wanted the lyrics, I could blast them all over Diamond City. Come on, tell me the whole story. Who’s the woman behind the music?”

“A songbird with a broken wing and a soft spot for the underdog,” Magnolia says, leaning forward so her knee brushes Piper’s. Piper has to force her hands not to tremble, her breathing to stay even. That little touch tingles, tickles its way up her thigh and makes her heart flutter as Magnolia continues, “People try to live their lives the best they can, wherever they can, and I’ll take a pack of honest junkies over a city that tries to scrub away its most interesting parts.”

Piper can just catch a whiff of perfume, something warm and faintly citrus on Magnolia’s skin. Takes all her rapid-boiling willpower to resist the urge to lean in and gulp it down. “So that’s what drew you to Goodneighbor? Honesty?”

“The color. You’ll still find liars and cardsharks, criminals and scum just about anywhere you go. But it’s understood, here. Diamond City pays too much for respectability, and when people start worrying more about what’s ‘respectable’ than what’s good, then you get scapegoats and lynch mobs.” Magnolia chuckles, a velvety sound that makes Piper’s blood hum beneath her skin. “And darling, do I look the tiniest bit respectable?”

“You look _magnificent_ ,” Piper babbles. She coughs into her palm, buying time in an effort to collect herself. “But. Um. What would you say inspires you?”

“There’s emotion in the music. Every song, I want to know I’m pushing that outside of myself and pulling someone in. Anyone who’s got a weary heart and a pocketful of regrets is welcome to take a listen, maybe hear something that hits home.” Magnolia tugs the shoulder of her dress, lips curving a wicked smile. “Sometimes the only things you have are the clothes on your back and a song in your heart.”

“And what does the Queen of Hearts do for fun after hours?” Piper asks. Her breath catches in her lungs, cold and dazzling, suspended in this diamond-sharp moment of teetering hope and folly—

Magnolia’s smile broadens as she offers a perfectly manicured hand. “Want to find out?”

And Piper’s breath turns to butterflies, a thousand bright-winged flutters that want to escape in giggling peals and champagne-bursts of excitement. She thrusts her hand, stopping a shadow’s-breadth away from Magnolia’s, caught in an unexpected shyness, but Magnolia twists her wrist, trails her fingertips across Piper’s gloved palm and closes the gap with a warm squeeze that melts Piper down to the bone.

The Third Rail holds little charm for Magnolia, so Piper buys two bottles of beer and they climb the steps up and out. Magnolia holds Piper’s arm rather than the handrails, and the small candles lining the stairway cast a white glow up her legs, like sheer stockings. Ham nods in greeting, holding the door for them as Magnolia tugs Piper outside.

They take an evening walk under the streetlamps, the night humid and purple beyond the bright lights’ glare. A few hellos to the other denizens of Goodneighbor— Hancock grins, twirls his switchblade and tips his hat; Fahrenheit nods with a jut of her chin; KL-E-0 gives a mechanical whistle as she closes shop— and Piper trips, stumbles on a section of broken pavement but Magnolia catches her with an arm around her shoulders, a dizzying closeness and Piper reels with a hit of that sweet citrus perfume, bright notes of lemongrass and something like sandalwood, like a pinch of prewar glamor from an old department store.

“Need to sit down?” Magnolia asks, and Piper nods even as her traitorous mouth tries to squeak ‘no,’ but it’s easier to follow Magnolia’s lead. Magnolia takes Piper by the hand, trails her delicate fingers down the wrist and across the glove, smooth nails scratching the palm through the warm leather as she breaks away. She steps over one of the metal grates venting heat, laughs and pretends to smooth down her dress, as if the tight skirt had enough slack to flare up anyway. Piper follows like a red balloon on a string, helpless and enchanted.

Magnolia selects a bench outside the Statehouse, and Piper sits with a creak of wood, knees tucked together and Magnolia beside her. They pass beer and cigarettes, malt and nicotine on their breath and Piper’s hands slippery-damp as she wedges her thumb under the label.

“Go on, peel it. Make a wish,” Magnolia purrs, her voice all smoke and honey. At Piper’s puzzled look, she elaborates. “If you pull the label off in one strip, it’ll come true.”

 _I wish… I wish I could see you again_ , Piper thinks, all the grenadine sweetness sloshing in her belly as she uses her nail to slice the edge of the label, then, fingers shaking, peels the label in one long roll. The remaining beer sloshes inside the amber bottle, her mouth sticky as she holds the label aloft in triumph.

“What talented hands,” Magnolia murmurs, close enough her breath stirs Piper’s skin. “Though really, I’m more interested in your mouth…” Her hand is on Piper’s shoulder, a friction-push against the bench as Magnolia kisses the corner of her mouth, slipping sideways with lips and an edge of tooth. Piper moans in the back of her throat, drops the label and kisses back soft and hungry, mouth open as Magnolia slides her tongue in. All sorts of malty sweetness, cool and clean. Magnolia’s so tall— puts her hand under Piper’s chin, tilts her up as Piper wraps her arms around Magnolia. Half-afraid to rip that gorgeous dress, but Magnolia chuckles low and throaty, guiding her hands to the curve of the hip and the small of the back.

 _Red, red_ … Piper thinks, warm and muzzy, her thoughts bobbing like a maraschino cherry. Sweet red, like the light dancing through a wine bottle, or the captivating glitter on Magnolia’s dress. But Magnolia’s so magnificent that any nickname would be lesser— and Piper blushes down to her marrow, a jelly-legged wobble as Magnolia says, “I have a room at the Rexford, if you want to get away…”

“I want to go wherever you’re going,” Piper says, fervent as a prayer.

Magnolia leaves the beer bottles against the wall (“trust me, some enterprising scavver will make better use of them than we ever will,”) and Piper sags heavy against Magnolia, arm around her waist. There are a few casual whistles, but Magnolia smiles bright and radiant, a goddess among her chosen. The drifters whistle the way a court might applaud their queen, and Piper feels mercifully small beneath Magnolia’s aura.

They enter the room and Magnolia locks it with a soft click, stepping out of her shoes. She’s still a few inches taller than Piper, even without her heels, and Piper undoes her shoes in a hasty tug of laces, kicking them off as Magnolia half-pushes, half-spins her to the bed. They hit the mattress with a breathless giggle, the worn springs creaking beneath them.

“You are so beautiful,” Piper whispers, and it’s trite but true. All her words gone in a rustle of ink and paper, burning with the soft friction of Magnolia’s thigh against hers, the dress riding up and Piper aches to touch and be touched, envelop herself in that red haze of skin and sequins. Her head spins, maraschino-lush and juicy, sweet enough to drown.

“You say the nicest things,” Magnolia murmurs, undoing Piper’s gloves with a delicate touch. She draws them off with one long pull, one hand holding the crook of Piper’s elbow as she grips the glove’s middle finger, sliding it off in a warm tickle of leather. “Let’s get these clothes off of you, hm?”

Piper squirms beneath Magnolia’s hands, crosses her wrists overhead as Magnolia peels her out of the red jacket. The shirt follows in a tangle of cloth, and Magnolia drops it to the floor in a jangle of buttons, a metal-on-metal clank that shivers down Piper’s spine. She opens her mouth, a soft whimper of breath as Magnolia slips her hands up Piper’s shirt and brushes her fingers along the spine, skimming the laddered rungs of the vertebra to undo Piper’s bra. Piper sits up as Magnolia pulls it off, her Star of David necklace falling forward to catch the light in glitter and gold. Spinning, like Piper’s head as Magnolia wraps her lips around Piper’s nipple, rolling the tip into her mouth to lick it. Maddening, taut— Piper squirms as she rocks forward, back. Hitches her hips, hungry for more attention— something direct; her clit throbbing, aching for it— but Magnolia pushes her down, butt sinking into the mattress as Magnolia orders, “Get naked,” and Piper scrambles to obey. She kicks off her pants, her underwear, sends her socks sailing across the room. One hits the wall with a soft _paf_ , barely audible under the blood-drum in Piper’s ears and her own ragged breathing.

“You look good enough to eat,” Magnolia purrs, a magnificent arch in her back as she unzips her dress. She turns so Piper can fumble the zipper the rest of the way down, then steps out of it to told the dress over the back of a chair. Her bra and panties match, a wine-red darkness that looks early black, and Magnolia gives a seductive twirl, smirking. “Or maybe you’d rather eat me?”

“Whatever you want, you got it,” Piper whispers.

“Whatever I want?” Magnolia chuckles at Piper’s mute nod. “I want your mouth on me.” She undoes her bra with deft hands, leaning forward to let her breasts sway as she sets it on the chair. There are thin red marks cupping her ribs, a pinch from the underwire. Like a kiss, a token, a trace of color lingering on her skin as she shimmies out of her panties. The panties she allows to drop to the floor, before kneeling on the bed and pushing Piper’s shoulder. “Lie down.”

Piper rolls back, hands raised to her chin as Magnolia knee-crawls over her. Piper groans as Magnolia straddles her face, setting her thumbs on the divot where thigh meets groin, the veins blue through Magnolia’s fair skin. The skin’s so thin, feels like it should be fragile at the join, this in-between of limbs— but Magnolia’s strong, firm, her muscular thighs wrapping over Piper’s face, the pubic hair soft and muffling against Piper’s mouth.

Piper uses her tongue to part those slick folds; would use her hands except Magnolia grabs her wrists in a push-pull of pressure and tension. Her grip goes harder, softer, and Piper alters her strokes to match. A long lick, from entrance to clit, a sweet bright-penny tang, but Magnolia groans, “More clit,” and Piper hastens to obey with a swirl of tongue. Her own arousal’s a throbbing need between her legs, but pale and distant next to the trembling crescendo of Magnolia’s sighs, Magnolia’s gasps. Those thighs clenched so tight it spins Piper dizzy, drunk off Magnolia and lust like a sweet red liquor.

Magnolia comes with a long and lazy moan, her body sagging onto Piper’s chest as she leans back. She slides sideways, spooning up to Piper to kiss her shoulder. Piper reaches up to squeeze her hand, mouth still wet with slick, slippery down her chin.

“How do you want it?” Magnolia asks, and it’s an easy answer with her graceful hands cupping Piper’s cheek, smooth nails scritching the skin by her ear.

“Your fingers,” Piper blurts. Remembers her manners, blushing. “Please.” More begging than request, but Piper’s not above begging if that means Magnolia touching her, holding her, making her scream into orgasm.

Magnolia twists a hand into Piper’s hair, sending a lovely white-shock curling down Piper’s spine. Touches her other hand to Piper’s mouth, two fingers on Piper’s lower lip as she commands, “Suck.”

Piper opens her mouth, almost giggly with relief. Not that she _really_ thought Magnolia would say ‘no,’ but. She opens her mouth. Slides her tongue down to the knuckle, hollows her cheeks and sucks, laps. Careful not to press with her teeth as she sucks Magnolia nice and wet. Every bit of wetness she adds will be going on her, in her, and her thighs clench with anticipation, her clit tingling.

Magnolia’s breath stirs hot against her ear, so close her lips graze the lobe on every syllable. “I’ve read all your articles, did you know? Asked travelers if they had new issues whenever they stopped by.”

“R-really?” Piper stammers, heat puddling in her stomach. An embarrassed trickle of arousal smearing between her legs as Magnolia rests her palm over Piper’s belly.

“Mhm. Always wondered how such a firecracker got so tongue-tied whenever she stopped by the bar. Then I figured…” Her voice trails as she slides her hand down, wet fingers over Piper’s clit in a small flutter, barely more than a nudge of her wrist that has Piper grinding against her. “...I figured maybe, maybe, this sweet newsgirl might be a little sweet on me. Nice to know I was right.”

“Y-you _seduced_ me!” Piper chokes, torn between giggles and denial. Her words rattle like broken keys, jingling in her throat.

Magnolia chuckles, hair mussed around her like a dark halo. “Did it work?” Her tongue’s bit between her teeth, holding back laughter.

“I think— I think it did,” Piper says, breaking into giggles after all. As if she can deny Magnolia anything, with their bodies tumbled together and Magnolia’s foot over her ankle, with Magnolia’s fingers on her clit and stroking up and down, playing her like an instrument, like Piper’s strung for Magnolia’s pleasure. Magnolia’s more gentle than Piper wants it, really, so Piper bucks against her hand. Begging, pleading. Moans torn ragged, hang in tissue-paper shreds off her lips. “Oh. _Oh_. Please. Don’t stop…” She cups her hand over Magnolia’s, guiding her movements into more of a circle, pulling against the lips and curling.

Magnolia kisses the back of her neck, lips sticky and mouth wet and pulling Piper taut. Piper curls her toes, arches her back— spine straight as a newspaper column, thoughts jumbling to incoherent nonsense, run-on sentences and heat, heat, heat, endless repetition of _oh, oh, oh_. Her ever-present mental editor too exhilarated to strike it all out with red pen, too focused on the _now_ of it, the staccato bursts rattling up her clit like fizzy static, curling out in bundles of tangled nerves. She finishes, sagging like telephone wires, heavy in Magnolia’s arms. Thighs sweat-slick and shining, Magnolia flexing her wrist and chuckling long and deep.

“Thought you were going to sprain my wrist there.”

Piper mumbles. Wishes she was articulate enough to say something witty, something snappy, but all her words have gone swirling down the drain like so much ink. She can only flop here, stained with orgasm.

“Looks like someone’s planning to spend the night,” Magnolia teases.

Piper’s eyes jolt open, and she rolls to face Magnolia. Nose to nose, bumping her hips into Magnolia’s as she rushes to apologize. “I didn’t mean to— I mean— if you’ll have me—”

“Relax, beautiful. I was just joking. If you want to stay, I’d love to have you.” A rueful smile, her lipstick worn thin. Only the faintest smear of pigment left at the corner of her mouth. “Though I warn you, your crush might not survive my morning breath.”

Piper giggles, fanning her fingers across her mouth. “Good thing I have mints.”


End file.
